How You Remind Me
by Alanna the Lioness
Summary: Depression. An old, dying George cries out for his Lioness, whom is never to return. Very sad, but the ending is happy....in a way. Won't say any more here. Just don't read this if you're planning on having a cheerful day.


/*Dun Wanna Be a Lady*\

//How You Remind Me\\

~~~By Alanna the Lioness~~~

A/N: I'm sick and tired of seeing all these 'anti-Alanna' fics out there. We all have our opinions. But that's not why I'm depressed. Don't ask. I've been depressed for a while now.

This is written in defense of Alanna and George….somehow. It's sad. DDA, as Jae would say, but it has a happy ending….like I hope my little English grade dispute will turn out to be.

Happy…..somewhat.

The song is "How You Remind Me" by Nickelback. All characters are credited to Tammy.

Hate Alanna and George? Why are you here anyway? I can block you now, and I'm in no mood to hear your crap. Go away. Oh yeah…heh…I own rubicon, and Marielle. And Alec. **By the way, Alec is named after my 5-month old nephew. ^.^**

**_Because of some lines this song, most of you will think I'm dissing George. I'm _****NOT!! _I love George, but I just HAD to use this song._**

**_ _**

More of "Dun Wanna Be a Lady" soon.

~*0*~

George Cooper….or Baron George of Pirate's Swoop….sighed, watching the autumn leaves break off of their stems and float gently to the ground. He used to sit right here in the backyard, perched on this very branch, Alanna in his arms. She used to love to watch the leaves turn color with him, before she left for the winter. Sometimes he'd join her there, but desert journeys were harsh ones, and he'd often had to take the children along with them.

He sighed. Alan, Alianne, and Thom were all grown and had moved on to their own paths in life. They used to come for visits occasionally, but as the demand for Tortall's defense grew, the visits slowed to a trickle, until they stopped altogether. He wasn't even sure where they were now.

The whole country was dying. Jon was aging rapidly, and Thayet, though still beautiful, could no longer be considered young, or even middle-aged.

How long ago had it been since Alanna had left? Half a century? Longer? George wasn't sure anymore. All he knew was that she was gone….and she would never return. They would never again sit on the balcony, watching the sunset over the cove at Pirate's Swoop, or poke fun at the royal courtiers and Jon at dinner. Or a thousand other things. This, he knew.

George dropped down slowly, careful not to snap his aching back. He didn't feel much like sitting on the perch anymore.

Never made it as a wise man I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing

_Tired of living like a blind man_

_I'm sick of sight without a sense of feeling_

_And this is how you remind me_

_This is how you remind me_

_Of what I really am_

_This is how you remind me_

Of what I really am

_ _

"More rubicon, my Lord Baron?" The servant held out a crystal pitcher containing a deep red liquid.

"No thank you. That's all I'll be needin'." George replied, grinning. "I'll get drunk if ye keep on givin' me the stuff, Alec."

Alec smiled and vanished into the halls.

Alanna sipped her goblet of rubicon, her amethyst eyes on the large plate in front of her. George lowered his glass, and their gazes met. Alanna grinned.

"Thinking again?" George wanted to know, raising his glass for a toast.

Alanna raised hers, her expression slightly distant. "Yes. But not about court this time. I don't want to go back to that hell for a while."

George's hazel eyes twinkled thoughtfully. "And what were you thinkin' about, then?" he inquired, though he already knew.

Alanna rose, and he stood, closing the distance between them. She placed her hands on his neck, her gaze warm and trusting. "It's been two years, George," she said softly, her eyes filled with a degree of love he'd been rewarded with in the three years they'd been serious about marriage…and had become husband and wife.

George looked at her cautiously. "Indeed, it has, lass. But are ye sure? Once it's done, it's done."

Alanna removed her anti-pregnancy charm, her eyes gleaming. "I'm sure about this, George," she said firmly. "You'll be with me, and I know I can do this." She took hold of his hand. "I'm ready."

George grinned and drew her close, kissing her softly. He pulled away, smiling at her look of content. This time, the kiss was longer, fiery, and far more passionate. She melted against him, and by the two came up for air, gasping, their faces were shining with a lust like no other. The servant who had entered the room curtseyed.

"And I take it ye won't want t' be disturbed tonight, my Lord Baron?" she teased softly, winking. "I'll see t' it."

"Thank you, Marielle," Alanna smiled at the servant before she disappeared, but barely had time to breathe before she was pulled into another kiss. Allowing herself to be swept into George's brawny arms, they disappeared down the long flights of stairs into his chambers.

_It's not like you to say sorry_

_I was waiting on a different story_

_This time I'm mistaken_

_For handing you a heart worth breaking_

_And I've been wrong_

_I've been down_

_To the bottom of every bottle_

_It's the words in my head_

_Scream "are we having fun yet?"_

_ _

_Yeah, yeah, yeah, no, no_

_Yeah, yeah, yeah, no, no_

_ _

Alanna had been riding home from battle in the dark of the night, triumphant, when she suddenly stopped her horse, clutching her stomach, her face pale.

"Alanna!" gasped Raoul, coming to a stop beside his friend. "Alanna, are you---"

"Ride on," Alanna said through gritted teeth. "Tell the troops we're riding on. I won't let this baby be born trampled under the horses."

"But—"

"Raoul, please," whispered Alanna, her expression as terrified as his own. He softened. She'd never been through this before; she was as scared as he was. "I want him….or her…to be born at Pirate's Swoop. It's what George would have wanted." George was currently on a mission for the King.

Raoul sighed. He knew how stubborn Alanna could be at times. And if he delayed her long enough, both she **_and _**the baby would perish. He nodded and spurred his horse close to Darkmoon, in case she would lose control in her pain spasms.

They had just rounded the corner, Pirate's Swoop in the distance, when Alanna started to sweat.

"Almost there," she whispered hoarsely. "Almost there…."

When they were near by about three yards, Alanna began to cry out in pain. Raoul yelled for the troops to halt and spurred his horse to a gallop to match Alanna's.

Suddenly, she went limp and collapsed, sliding off Darkmoon's neck. Desperately, Raoul threw himself forward in his saddle, seizing Darkmoon's reins and hauling him to a stop. Dismounting, he caught his friend and sprinted towards Pirate's Swoop with her in his arms, running for all he was worth.

_ _

_It's not like you didn't know that_

_I said I love you and I swear I still do_

_And it must have been so bad_

_Cause living with me must have damn near killed you_

_ _

_And this is how you remind me_

_Of what I really am_

_This is how you remind me_

_Of what I really am_

"Ma!" gurgled Thom, running towards his mother, his silk-smooth baby fat folding into little dimples as he smiled at her, holding a lilac rose in his chubby fist proudly. "Fower!" Alanna took it quickly before Thom could prick himself with the thorns, and admired it while the child climbed into his father's lap.

"It's beautiful, Thom," she smiled at her son, kissing his forehead amid his tumbling copper curls. "There aren't many of these."

"Fower," he said, pointing. Then he waved a tiny finger in her face. "Prty fowers!"

Alanna looked confused, but George chuckled, jiggling his son on one knee.

"He means ye have purple eyes, like the flower, lass," he grinned. Alanna laughed and watched as George tossed Thom into the air, the child giggling crazily.

"_Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!_" Thom gurgled happily as he clutched at his father's white, cotton shirt. The garment was light and simple, thin enough for George's skin to breathe on the hot summer day, and the sleeves were rolled up, exposing his tanned, muscular arms. Laughing, Thom climbed onto George's shoulders, and George grinned, kneeling in the grass and walking around on all fours while his son shrieked for joy.

Alanna, disregarding her clothes as well, joined them, relieving George of his burden and lying on her back, lifting Thom into the air. He wriggled, the smile never leaving his face. Lowering the baby, Alanna kissed her son on the nose and held him to her. "Leave your da in peace, Thom," she scolded him lovingly. "He's worked hard today."

Thom said, "Fower," and blew a wet bubble.

Placing him gently in the grass, Alanna smiled up at the sky, the warm sun glowing on their limbs. Thom crawled over to a wet puddle, cooing in fascination. She turned to George, and their eyes met. He reached for her hand, and grasped it.

_Splort._

_ _

Husband and wife recoiled as mud splattered their faces. They looked at each other, then at their son, who looked extremely amused.

"Gaaaa," he gurgled, laughing. Alanna and George stared, then shook their heads, laughing too. George took Alanna into his arms and kissed her proudly, mud and all.

_It's not like you to say sorry_

_I was waiting on a different story_

_This time I'm mistaken_

_For handing you a heart worth breaking_

_And I've been wrong_

_I've been down_

_To the bottom of every bottle_

_It's the words in my head_

_Scream "are we having fun yet?"_

_ _

_Yeah, yeah, yeah, no, non_

_Are we having fun yet?_

_Yeah, yeah, yeah, no, no_

_Are we having fun yet?_

_Yeah, yeah, yeah, no, no_

_Are we having fun yet?_

_ _

George frowned in his sleep. He was confused. He was not in his bed, but in a valley of some sort. And standing in front of him….was Alanna. She looked to be about 20 years old, her copper hair shining so brightly it would shame the sun itself…if it were there. Raindrops trickled down their faces, kisses of the heavens.

"Alanna?" he whispered.

"George?" she stepped towards him, and placed a hand on his cheek. It was warm and felt like the morning dew. He blinked, startled. She seemed so empty….almost like she was not there….and yet, she seemed so **_real_**.

"George, you're hurting." She murmured, her expression filled with pain as she withdrew her hand.

"Aye. I'm no longer young, lass," he replied sorrowfully.

"Damn," Alanna hissed as she saw him crumple with pain.

He looked up at her, his hazel eyes pleading. "Please…help me."

Alanna came to his side, watching as he clutched at his failing chest in desperation. She looked to the sky, her arms spread in anxiety.

"Please, Goddess," she whispered. "Let me take him back. Let me end the pain."

Abruptly, the thunder stopped, and the rain slowed to a trickle as ray of light broke through the darkness.

_Never made it as a wise man_

_I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing_

_And this is how you remind me_

_This is how you remind me_

_This is how you remind me_

_Of what I really am_

_This is how you remind me_

_Of what I really am_

_ _

_It's not like you to say sorry_

_I was waiting on a different story_

_This time I'm mistaken_

_For handing you a heart worth breaking_

_And I've been wrong_

_I've been down_

_To the bottom of every bottle_

_It's the words in my head_

_Scream "are we having fun yet?"_

_Yeah, yeah_

_Are we having fun yet_

_Yeah, yeah_

_Are we having fun yet_

_Yeah, yeah_

_Are we having fun yet?_

_Yeah, yeah_

_ _

When the sun rose in Tortall the next morning, George still lay abed, a contented smile on his face, turned toward the window. When the king's men would arrive later that day, they would find the Baron dead; he'd had finally gotten his well-deserved rest. They wouldn't notice the happy young couple watching them from the Realms of the Dead, together at last, of course. No one ever would.

But they would find a rather peculiar thing. In the Baron's open palm lay a flower of some sort…..

…..it seemed to be a lilac rose.

_No, no…_

_ _

~*0*~

**_Like it?_**


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